


The Deal

by ColiOli



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 10:12:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11712273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColiOli/pseuds/ColiOli
Summary: Paul faces the difficult dilemma of admitting to Daryl his secret. One that involves a deal he made with Negan in order to save his life.





	The Deal

**Author's Note:**

> I chose not to list warnings, but please do not continue if any sort of blackmail-sex situations could be upsetting to you.

“There’s something I have to tell you.” Jesus stands from the edge of his bed. He traces a trembling hand through his sweaty hair.

Daryl slows the pulling on his dirt stained jeans, pausing before buttoning the front. Through dark lashes he peers at the half naked person in front of him.

Daryl contemplates the way It’s so easy for Paul to stand before him without a shirt on. The way his insecurities seem to lie at the picking of his nails instead of covering his bare chest and back, even during sex. Daryl stands before Paul, mindlessly gazing at the dark hair line that runs up along his lower abdomen.

But what catches the hunters eye most of all is that it’s Paul who is nervous for once. He’s mindlessly biting on his lip while his typical upright posture now appears wilted. His youthful pale green eyes for the first time fall short of finding meaning between their private gaze.

“I think you should know from me, before you find out from someone else here at Hilltop, or worse… from…” his words drift off and he finds himself nervously licking at his lip and fidgeting with his fingers.

Daryl does a quick nod, swallowing the saliva that builds in the back of his throat. The hunter has spent many months observing Paul from afar, reassuring him during the times he felt he should have done more for the group. Daryl had found that supporting the younger man became a focus in replacement of his suffering guilt, the thoughts of Glenn’s death somehow drifting further from his mind when Paul was near. And yet out of all the times they’d been together in bed, Paul never stood up afterwards with anything but poetic ramblings of shit Daryl didn’t have the patience to understand.

The hairs on Daryl’s neck raise. “Spit it out then.”  

A faint glint produces in Paul’s eyes. “It’s hard to say. I know you Daryl. I know you’re genuine at heart towards me. It’s taken time and you’ve changed so much… but I don’t know that this is something you can forgive me for.”

Daryl scoffs and takes a step back, thrusting his hand out to his side. “What? You got some other boyfriend or somethin’?”

Jesus shakes his head. “No Daryl, it’s not like that.” 

Paul hesitates but eventually glances up to Daryl. Strands of blonde hair conceal most of his face when he softly speaks. “This isn’t easy to say, so I’m going to be outright and say it. I’ve…” he swallows and shakes his head before taking a breath.

“I’ve _been_ with Negan.”

There’s a deceased silence that abruptly lingers between them. It blankets over the two of them in that small trailer, nearly suffocating the stagnant air from the room. Daryl’s expression twists into disgust when his upper lip raises into a snarl. Daryl wants to reach out and swing at Paul, but resists instead forcefully turning his back to the younger man.

Paul raises his head to see the black shirt on Daryl’s back stretch and release with each deep breath that he takes, his muscles powerfully flexing as he stands upright with his shoulders drawn back. Paul reaches out, and at the same time Daryl seems to explode from within himself, an avalanche of emotions tumbling down the slope.

Daryl whips around, a spray of spit flying from his mouth when he shouts, “You ever think of tellin’ me that ‘fore? Huh?”

“I wanted to, but we weren’t exactly close!”

“Weren’t close? You mean fuckin’ an’ stuff ain’ close to you?”

“It’s not like that, Daryl. It’s one thing to expose yourself to another body with sex, but it’s another to open up your soul to that person. I’m finally ready to take that next step! And there’s things you need to know before this can go any further. Please understand what I am going to tell you.”

“Fuck you Paul! This ain’ some normal step in whatever relationship you thought this was!”

He’d never cried in front of the other man before, but there was a part of him breaking open that he’d promised to himself that he’d conceal from the emotionally concrete hunter. Yet he couldn’t control the ache in his throat that swelled up, taunting to choke him if he didn’t let a sob escape.

“What then? You like some bitch of his like all them other ones?” He moves so his chest against the shorter man, his chin hovering over Paul’s obscured face.

 “No, it wasn’t like that!”

“Well then what was it like Paul?” Daryl presses against the younger man, forcing him to step back until his bare back touches the bitter wall. “Why ain’ you over there now lettin’ him fuck you like you just let me?”

Daryl raises a fist and slams it into the wall next to Paul’s head causing a picture frame beside them to fall half off its hinges. “Huh?” He demands.

“I didn’t go there asking for it!” Paul stammers as he shoves the larger man from himself.  

 

_“Leave him boys,” Negan instructs to the men who drug a resisting young man into the room, roughly dropping him on his knees at Negan’s feet._

_Jesus looks up to the man who sits smug in his plush chair with one leg bent in and the other stretched out. In his hand he twists a bat, rotating the head of it on the floor in full rotations by the spherical handle. He smirks at Paul, his gaze victorious._

_“I’m going to cut to the chase –Paul. You fucked up. It isn’t that hard to protect your shit, for my boys to get what is rightfully my shit.”_

_“We were robbed,” Jesus tries to explain. He attempts to arch upright but with his hands still bound behind his back he finds it awkward to try and keep himself upright. Individual strands of the frayed rope cut into his skin where he’d spent the last hour attempting to work them free. He’d been caught by one of Negan’s goons, taking a blow to the side of his mouth when discovered. The second time taking a blow to the front of his skull._

_Negan seems to eye at the bruise that recently formed on Paul’s forehead. Paul senses the intense gaze and ducks his head to the floor wanting to do anything but peer into those cold eyes._

_Negan swiftly brings up his bat with one hand, using the barb-wire wrapped end to lift Paul’s chin and look him in the eye. Negan leans in, his voice nearly a whisper when he asks, “And you just bent over and let it happen?”_

_Paul swallows, resisting to pull himself back from where the wire presses into the skin above his neck. “We were outnumbered.”_

_Negan clicks his tongue and abruptly sits back, taking the bat with him. “The fact of the matter is, I lost my shit. And I thought to myself that I could beat your little head in and make myself feel better. Or, I got to thinking that maybe you could offer me something that I cannot resist. Your choice, but if I were you I know damn sure which one I’d pick!”_

_Jesus is breathing hard. He’d mastered several years of controlling himself in these situations. It was determinantal to not let an opponent see one’s physiological stress. But even now, touching lips with Death, Paul couldn’t maintain the technique he’d been a professional at for years._

_Negan sighs, “You see, I got these man problems. I have all these women here, and not one of them wants to fuck me. If it one ain’t slobbering in tears over something fucked up I did, then the next one is spouting out blood from her goddamn vagina. I just need a good goddamn fuck!” Negan chuckles._

_“Someone told me you tasted along the other side of the fence, and from what they saw, was that you were pretty good at it.” Negan winks when Paul’s expression becomes aware at the statement._

_“You were watching me?”_

_Negan laughs. “Wow! You don’t even deny it!” He carries on laughing, only settling down before he swings the bat near Paul’s cheek._

_His eyes dark and fierce, Negan slowly states, “Don’t you dare think for a second that you don’t have eyes on you outside that little Hilltop of yours. You were with what’s his name? Alex. Fucker got bit though right? Shame.” He licks his tongue along his upper lip in a slow sensual motion that Jesus can’t help but notice. “You miss getting fucked I’ll bet.”_

_Negan sighs and bites at his lips. He sits back on the couch and sets Lucille across his lap before resting his head against his clasped hands behind his neck. He stares down at Paul with a dark gaze that drifts down to his own lap where Lucille rests._

_“Make me a deal, Paul,” he says with a fierce grin out of the side of his mouth._

Jesus attempts to push Daryl off of him but the hunter is stronger and sustains his strength against the younger man once again pushing him against the wall. Daryl is pressed chest to chest against Paul, holding his arms down to his side.

A muffled sob escapes Paul’s trembling mouth. It would take everything for Paul to keep himself upright without the strength of Daryl pushing him firmly against the plastered wall. The emotions of the day flood back into the forefront of his memory, mocking the relationship he’d finally been able to build with another man just to feel it about to crumble with this very confession.

 The anguish breaks through Daryl’s voice when he shouts, “I don’ even know you!”

“I had to Daryl! I had no other choice or I’d be killed! You don’t get it!”

Daryl’s features widen and he instantly freezes. He slowly takes a step back from Paul, releasing the trembling arms from his grasp. He’s silent for a moment, never once tearing away his gaze. Daryl’s breathing begins to increase as the darkness grows within him, finally able to put the pieces of Paul’s words together.

His voice is low and cautious when he asks, “He… make you… he—?“

He couldn’t even say the word.

“No.” Paul rests the back of his head on the wall and stares up at the lowered ceiling. “I had to Daryl. He didn’t make me.”

Daryl feels his hands perspire as his fists tighten. His own memories of Negan’s manipulation sneak up into his thoughts. The bastard could take someone’s soul that might as well be wrapped in steal and force them to eventually break out of their own cage like a defenseless animal begging to be saved.

How Daryl _knew_ Negan’s potential to get inside someone’s mind.

Paul interrupts Daryl’s thoughts when he softly speaks. “I was responsible for the drop that day. And it all went wrong.” After a moment Paul then adds, “That’s how I knew the layout so well when I drew the maps for Sasha.”

 

_He cautiously paces next to the king bed, his fingertips tracing along the burgundy silk sheets. His wrists bore a bloody signature left from the ropes before Negan had cut the restraint off._

_A dark voice appears just behind his ear._

_“You know I only save my bed for the best. Those other bitches,” he clicks his tongue then runs a hand down Paul’s back until his fingers twist the end of his shirt into a fist, jerking Paul back with it. “I save my Fuck Room for them. Something tells me you fuck like you deserve the best. Am I right? I sure as shit hope so. Hate to see a pretty face like yours end up a pile of bloody shit.”_

Daryl swallows.  He finds the courage to look at Paul whose eyes are now shot red from the tears that he still resisted to let fall.

“I didn’ know he was like that.”

“What? With men? I don’t think he is at heart.” Paul sniffs, nearly grinning when he speaks again. “He knew I was beneficial to have around for the supplies so killing me was his last option. But he had to do something to make some sick point. And what better way to do it and still get the results he wants, then to make someone feel owned?” Paul pauses, his brows furrow as his face becomes twisted. “He didn’t… with you?”

Daryl barely shakes his head, almost ashamed that Paul should carry this burden alone.

Paul registers this and allows his head to drop from the wall, half in relief, partly in the question that remained. Why him? Why that punishment? What did it mean that Negan chose that over removing his hand or torturing him with the heated iron like Daryl had told him about?

Daryl inhales and exhales sharply. He eyes the younger man who refuses now to meet his gaze. He wavers, but dares the question that is forefront in his mind.

“How many times?”

 

_Paul turns around to face Negan. Negan drops his tight grip from Paul’s shirt and reaches behind himself. Instead of picking up Lucille, Negan instead brandishes a pale wash cloth doused in cool water._

_“My boys—they can be a little rough.” Negan presses the cloth to Paul’s lip, wiping away the blood. Paul wants to pull back, to resist the press of Negan’s attempt in kindness where it painfully pushes against the skin tear. But he resists, instead holding his stare with Negan. Negan meets his gaze with his teeth bared in a grin. He looks down at Paul’s wrist, gently grabbing at those next and wiping the blood from them as well._

_When he’s finished, he sets the rag down in a bowl where the blood seeps into the water, the red blood like branches from a tree reaching out before disappearing in its depths. Negan steps back and slowly unbuttons his shirt, first starting at the top where peppered chest hairs are exposed. When he’s finished and the shirt pushed aside, Paul can’t help the influx of breath that occurs when the sight of Negan’s bare chest fills his vision._

_Negan chuckles at Paul’s reaction. He motions to his own chest where Paul hesitates to at first, but eventually gathers the weight of his situation. He kneels in front of the older man and shuts his eyes.  He’s almost proud of himself when he only slightly touches his tongue to Negan’s chest and can instantly hear the hitch of a breath from the man as he flexed body twitches in response. He wants to sigh a breath of relief when Negan unzips his pants in response to Paul’s tongue that teases lower and lower._

_It’s several minutes later and Paul hasn’t even finished sucking Negan’s dick when Negan pulls back and draws Paul to a stand before throwing him on the bed. Paul doesn’t protest the way he thought he would when Negan yanks off his pants or tears off his shirt. He doesn’t cry out in distaste the way he’d imagine he should when Negan bites on his neck, leaving a swollen imprint of his teeth to serve as a reminder to Paul of his punishment._

“How many times?” Daryl repeats, his voice gravely and dangerously low.

Paul meets Daryl’s heavy gaze, the question amounting to the severity of what Daryl was insinuating. _‘How long were you his fuck toy, his bitch?’_ The words echo in Jesus’s head before he pulls himself back to the question.

“Just once,” he whispers.

They stand in silence for several moments. Paul’s legs give in from the exhaustion of the moment, and he allows himself to slide to the ground.

It’s Daryl who breaks the silence first, his hands held first on his hip line. “You wanna talk ‘bout it?”

“Not any more than you truly want to know about the details.”

Daryl exhales, nodding his head. In truth, the fact would tear him from the inside and outwards. To picture the two of them –over each other, Negan _getting off,_ possibly even making his lover do the same… Daryl struggles to but eventually can push the image aside.

Paul leans his head against the wall and shuts his eyes. He’s breathing steady again when he speaks. “I’m sorry for this Daryl. I just thought you should know, but I understand that you don’t want this anymore.”

It’s only now that Paul allows the tears to stream down his cheek. They fall quickly and are soon lost in his beard, leaving only faint trails on Paul’s flushed skin.

Daryl does the only thing he can think of in the moment and reaches down clutching at Paul’s elbows, pulling him to a stand with one swift movement. He wraps his arms around Paul and brings him into a protective embrace. They stand like this in the trailer for what could have been nearly an hour, neither of them saying a word, only the occasional sound of Paul sniffling and pressing his head against Daryl’s shoulder. It’s sometime nearing day when Paul breaks the silence.

A faint glow intrudes through the sheet clipped over the window, evading their private night with the reminder of the dangers that follow each day the sun rises. He talks softly against Daryl’s chest, his words careful and intended. “You know that when things get bad, he can’t know about us. You know how he is Daryl. He’ll either take me again like before, or worse, he’ll kill you in front of me.”

Daryl scoffs. “Killin’ me ain’ the worse of them things.”

“You know that’s what will happen! You can’t protect me from him when the war becomes desperate. He has his ways Daryl-”

Daryl shakes his head. He pulls Paul in tight, wrapping a hand over the back of the blonde head. “Nah, I ain’ ever lettin’ him fuckin’ near you again.”

 

 


End file.
